Call Me Oldfashioned
by TheWorldBelongsToME
Summary: Goten finally musters up the courage to ask Bra on a date. Bra decides to make a game of it: "I'll go out with you," she says, "but only if you get my father's permission." Lengthy One-shot


Call Me "Old-fashioned"

Alright. So he was screwed. So what? It's not like he _hadn't_asked permission to go out with Vegeta's precious little girl before.

Alright. So he hadn't. He was screwed.

He could just imagine it: the stunted yet sturdy frame of Vegeta, the Prince of All Saiyajins, stooping over the third-class clown's youngest brat with fists cocked and ready to start ripping out hearts—well, more like ready to start ripping out _a _heart. Goten's heart.

Goten swallowed deeply, his Adam's apple pressing down as far as it could go.

"Why is she making me do this?" Goten marveled in his thoughts, "Maybe it was just her way of saying 'Thanks, but no thanks.'"

Then why had her cheeks glowed crimson when he had asked? It was not that bright, offensive crimson that gnawed at the eyes. It was not the crimson of fury or even embarrassment. Perhaps it was not crimson. Perhaps it was rose pink.

"Yes," Goten nodded, pleased with his metaphor and feeling like quite the poet.

"Her cheeks went rose pink. The pink a girl gets when a boy she likes says she's pretty or gives her presents or…asks her out," he advised himself out loud, as if he were an old Don Juan with years of experience.

Yet even with these tiny but numerous nuances in his favor, why had she told him to do this? He just could not put his finger on it. She liked him, he had no doubt, but here she was playing the good old-fashioned girl on a sudden. _Her_, a good old-fashioned girl? Her name was Bra for Kami's sake!

Goten sighed and placed a hand on his head, soothing a headache. He just could not put his finger on it. There was no time for that, though. If Goten hovered around the entrance of the gravity room any longer, Vegeta would probably rip open the door with a savage snarl on his face to scold the boy for loitering.

"It's now or never," he sucked in a tight breath to brace himself and knocked firmly on the door. But why, why had she asked him to do this?

Bra awoke that morning with particular pride. Of course, she was always proud, but this morning she felt particularly proud. There was no real reason for this. She just felt it: today would be a great day!

Leaning on a counter-top in the kitchen, Bra stuffed her mouth with a handful of cereal.

"Get a bowl, honey," Bulma advised while sitting at the dining table, sipping her coffee and scanning a newspaper. Bra smiled widely like a dog caught in the act of rummaging through the garbage. She walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a bowl. After she poured herself some milk and cereal, she joined her mother at the dining table.

"You didn't put the milk back in the fridge," Bulma said while flipping a page of the newspaper and imbibing her coffee once again. Bra crunched some of her flakes and swallowed.

"I'll do it once I'm done," she piped. Her mother nodded faintly at this. After a while of Bra's quiet munching and Bulma's rustling newspaper pages, Bra looked up at her mother with winsome eyes.

"I'm thinking of going shopping today!"

Bulma put her paper down and raised a brow.

"I thought you did that last week."

"Well, yeah…" Bra flipped a hand and rolled her eyes, "I went with my _friends_! When you go with friends you can never really buy anything. It'll make everyone feel bad. Last week was just preparation for the real thing."

Bulma's brow raised even higher, "The real thing?"

"Well—yeah!" Bra nearly whined with an exasperated expression, "Today'll be the real thing! Is Daddy going to be training much today?"

Regardless of all physical possibilities, Bulma raised her brow even higher, "You want to take _him_?"

"You're no fun to shop with!" Bra brayed, sticking out her tongue, "You're always telling me what to get. Daddy is so clueless, I could be buying a thong and he'd just cringe and hand over the card so he could get out faster."

Bulma narrowed her eyes and spoke in a threatening voice, "You won't be buying a thong, though, now will you?"

Bra threw up her hands desperately, "It was hypothetical! Geez!"

Bulma pulled her paper back up with one hand and picked up her coffee with the other.

"No, Bra," she said curtly, "Find another hobby. You've got plenty of clothes already."

Bra crossed her arms in a huff, "Daddy would say yes!"

"_Daddy _isn't here right now," Bulma replied, keeping her eyes on the paper, "Besides, your father has some ground rules, too, you know. He isn't as desperately lost in your devices as you think. He'd be willing to say no to you on some things."

"Ha!" Bra spat out through a mouthful of flakes, "I could ask him to jump off a cliff, and he'd do it."

"That's only because he can fly."

"It was a figure of speech! Unlike _someone _I know, _he _loves me." After a hasty gulp, Bra playfully stuck her tongue out again. Bulma nearly grinned at her daughter's stubbornness yet still kept her eyes locked on the paper.

"Give me one example of when he'd ever say no!" Bra challenged, "Sure, he says no a whole da—" Bulma cast a sharp glance at her daughter, who continued, "aaarn—he says no a whole _darn _lot to Trunks. But not to me. Never to me." Bra smiled victoriously.

Bulma spread out her paper with both hands and brought it in front of her face. This was a façade, of course, while she racked her brain for one good example.

_Taha!_ She slammed the paper flat onto the table.

"He'd say no to a date!" she exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"If you asked him if you could go out on a date with a boy—he'd say no straight-out."

"Oh, c'mon, Mom!" Bra rolled her eyes excessively, "No girl asks _permission _to go out from her _dad_ any more! That's old-school."

"Old-fashioned," Bulma amended and happily brought the paper in front of her face again, "Eat the rest of your cereal before it gets soggy." Bra again rolled her eyes and limply brought her spoon to her mouth, feeling in full the shame of defeat. Then, it hit her.

"That isn't right!" She said through a frown, "That isn't right! Girls didn't ask their fathers for permission to go out; their beaus asked instead."

"He'd still say no," Bulma peeked over her paper with a daring glint in her eyes.

"No, he wouldn't. He'd say yes, because he'd know it's what _I _wanted!"

"Really, now?" Bulma teased, "I bet he wouldn't."

"I bet he would!"

"Alright," Bulma put her paper down again, "What're the wages?" She scratched her chin, "Hm…let's see…If you get a boy to ask your father for permission to go out with you and your father says no, you won't be allowed to shop for three months." Bra withered at this.

"But!" Bulma lifted a finger, "If he says yes, not only will you get a date, but I'll let you go shopping tomorrow with Grandma."

"You're on!" Bra jumped onto her feet and turned toward a door frame leading into a hall.

"Wait a second!" Bulma shouted after her daughter at the last second, "You have to finish your cereal first." Bra sighed and returned obediently to her seat. The flakes were soggy now. Gross. She begrudgingly pulled up another spoonful to her mouth. The spoon lingered outside her lips for a moment. Then it began to inch toward her tongue.

_Knock-knock-knock_.

"I'll get it!" Bra sprung up and sprinted to the door before her mother could protest. She swung the door open to see a familiar face.

"Goten?" She tilted her head, "Hi! What're you doing here?" Goten rubbed his head nervously and smiled wide. He chuckled and coughed and readjusted the way his sleeves fell over his shoulders. After a while, Bra tapped her foot impatiently at his delays.

"It's Saturday," he blurted suddenly.

"Yeah…"

"I've got nothing to do," he shrugged while stooping his hands into two baggy pockets.

"Oh," Bra tickled her chin, clueless, and after an awkward pause continued, "Would you like to come in?" Goten shifted uncomfortably and responded, "No." He lit up in shock at his reply.

"I mean, yes!" he corrected himself hurriedly, "But—uh…um…" He still hovered at the doorway. Bra sighed wearily, "Do you want to come in or not?"

"I do!" Goten grinned and rushed in doors. Bra closed the door behind him and then the two loitered together in the vestibule. Bra's brows were arched curiously; Goten breathed heavily.

"So," Bra endeavored to escape from the awkwardness, "how are you?"

"Fine, fine," Goten replied dismissively, but then realizing what Bra was doing, tried to return the favor, "And you?" Bra stuck her tongue out sourly, "Blech."

"So bored," she feigned a yawn, "My mom won't let me go shopping today."

Silence. Awkward loitering.

"That sucks," Goten stated simply.

"Yeah."

Silence. Awkward loitering.

"Hey!" Goten exclaimed, "I got this idea. I was wondering…" He trailed off and then timidly went mute. His cheeks glowed red.

"Yes?" Bra encouraged.

"Would you," he started, "like to go and, I don't know, wander around in a mall or something?"

"I can't go shopping."

"Right. Well, how 'bout a movie?"

Bra blinked at the boy standing over her nervously. She shook her head at herself. She snickered and crossed her arms. She tilted her head to the right. Then to the left. She coughed. Finally, she spoke, "A movie? Goten, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No!" Goten squeaked, "Maybe. Yes. Sorry. I'm just so b—"

"Don't apologize!" Bra flourished her hands, laughing, "Wow, what weird timing. Me and mom were just talking about—" She stopped. It was better, she thought, if Goten remained ignorant of her little wager.

"About me?"

"No," Bra said, "About dates."

"Oh," Goten looked a bit disappointed but then persisted hopefully, "Dates with me?"

"No. Dates in general," Bra added afterward, "But that doesn't exclude you!"

"Oh," Goten locked eyes with Bra, "So...would you like to?"

This was the perfect opportunity. True, it might be harder for her father to say yes considering who the beau was. Still, Bra was thoroughly convinced that her daddy would never say never to her.

"Well…let me think," her eyes flashed mischievously. The thought of winning her bet made her cheeks burn with a joyful crimson. Then the thought of going out with Goten—an age-old crush of hers— tempered the crimson with a rose pink glow.

"Under one condition," she said calmly.

"Name it!" Goten beamed with excitement. Placing her hands on her hips, Bra asserted, "I say yes only if he says yes."

"Who's he?"

"Daddy!"

"What-ee?!"

"Daddy!" Bra chirped, "I'll go out with you but only if you get my father's permission. If he says yes, then I say yes."

"But Bra," Goten frowned and spoke very seriously, as if he were disclosing government secrets, "your dad is _Vegeta_."

"I know who my own father is, thank you very much!" Bra rolled her eyes. Goten shook his head rabidly and insisted in a wavering voice, "Do you? Your dad is _Ve-ge-ta_."

"So what?" Bra spat, walking into a hall and traveling through a labyrinth of doorways, "You should've realized that before you asked me out! You have to ask him now." Goten trailed behind her, a tried and true suitor. His face contorted with dread and he sputtered like a teething infant, "B-b-but…"

"Why?!" he squealed in full realization of the absurdity of Bra's request, "Your dad is _Vegeta_!"

"You can quit saying that, y'know!" Bra halted in her steps and cast Goten an insulted leer.

"Why do I have to ask _him_?!" Goten cried. Bra shrugged, walked further, and opened a door that lead into another hall. She lingered there and went no further; Goten waited within arm's reach of her side, watching her every move with great care.

"I don't know," Bra finally answered Goten's question, "Why not? I guess you can call me…'old-fashioned.'"

"B-but…" Goten stammered, "Vegeta."

"C'mon!" Bra tugged at Goten's sleeve, shoving him into the hall in front of her. He found himself in front of another door, the back door. Sliding it open, Bra pushed him further forward onto a threadlike path leading to the gravity room.

"He's probably in the GR right now," Bra explained, blocking the doorway from all of Goten's desperate advances, "Just go and give him a knock." She began sliding the door shut. Giving Goten a wink, she said, "You can find me in the kitchen once he says yes."

There was a clicking sound, and the door was shut. Bra's form receded out of sight into the web of halls. Goten turned around toward the gravity room and, as if in a funeral procession, marched forward.

He was only a foot away from the door.

He stood still for a long while and thought to himself.

He knocked.

To Goten's vast surprise, he heard the buzz of the gravity room turn off almost immediately. The door pulled open. He saw the stern frame of Vegeta in the doorway. Vegeta said nothing and made no expression. He turned around and walked back into the center of the gravity room, with Goten trailing at his heels.

Throwing punches in the air, Vegeta barked, "What do you want? I have work."

Goten winced a little, "Er…well, sorry, but I just…"

Irritated, Vegeta stopped punching. Panting from the exercise, he glared at the boy, "Out with it!"

"Umm…" Goten clambered in his thoughts and spat out the first thing he came across, "I came to ask you something."

"Ask another time!" Vegeta yelled back and began to make toward the control pad to increase the gravity.

"Wait!" Goten pleaded before Vegeta turned around completely, "I need to ask now! It's about Bra!"

Vegeta froze in place. Lifting his eyes up, he asked, "What about her?"

"Well," Goten muttered hesitantly, letting his eyes meander all around the room, so long as they steered clear of Vegeta's steep scowl.

After a pause, Goten mustered his spirits and began in a low, slow mumble, "I've come to ask…No!" He furrowed his brows and corrected himself, "I've come to elic—illic—solic—yes, solicit…solicit from you, of course," For a moment, he did nothing but scratch his chin and lick his lips in a desperate search for the right words, "Um…" he stalled, "To solicit…permission to, uh—" he halted nervously, gulped and continued, "go out…uh…tonight." As an afterthought, he quickly added, "With her."

There. He said it.

Goten shot his eyes up proudly to see the father's reaction. His eyes met with a perplexed rather than an infuriated frown carved sharply on Vegeta's face. A good sign, Goten thought.

"Boy…" Vegeta growled, looking down at the brat. Goten began to smile hopefully.

"What in the hell did you just say? That has to be the most convoluted gibberish I have heard in my life."

Crest-fallen. That was the word for it, wasn't it? He remembered looking it up the other day. Crest-fallen, Goten was absolutely crest-fallen. Now he had to repeat the whole miserable process again, as apparently Vegeta hadn't a clue what Goten meant.

"I'm training," Vegeta stated blandly, "Don't bother me." He turned his back to Goten and moved toward a red button to return to his training in the gravity room.

Goten knew that it was a miracle to get Vegeta to stop training the first time round; if he let Vegeta press that button, he might as well kiss his date good-bye. Flustered, Goten dismissed all caution and blurted any words his tongue could summon.

"I want to go out with your daughter!" He shouted. Vegeta stopped in his steps. He turned around and suddenly materialized in front of the boy, stooping his head down like a drooling vulture, ready to rip, shred, and devour.

"What did you say, boy?" a deep snarl bounced throughout the gravity room. Goten felt like darkness was closing in around him. Vegeta's glower was deadly.

"What did you say?" the snarl repeated. Goten shook his head nervously and stepped back a pace.

"N-noth…" his voice cracked girlishly, but after he swallowed, he tried again, "I said nothing." Vegeta closed the gap between them, stepping forward.

"You said something," he whispered.

"I said nothing!" Goten squeaked and turned to run. Vegeta caught the boy by the collar, whipping Goten within inches of his scowling visage.

"You said something…" The Prince hissed, "Say it again."

"Do I have to?"

"You interrupted my life's work to say it. Say it."

"Can…" Goten gulped, "I go out with your daughter?"

Vegeta released Goten's collar, shoving the boy to his feet. Crossing his arms, the Prince grunted flatly, "No. I forbid it."

Goten gawked at the man before him, silently petitioning for an explanation. Rolling his eyes, Vegeta sighed.

"Royalty does not stoop to such abominable lows," he explained, "Lows being low-class grunts like you and that _father _of yours."

A long-forgotten yet familiar fury stirred within Goten. It felt like the slowly rising heat in a pot of water as thousands of minuscule bubbles float upward just before the water begins to boil. Goten frowned and responded coolly, forgetting with whom he was speaking, "I thought you got over that little self-esteem complex of yours years ago."

Vegeta smirked. He looked up in affected thought and wondered aloud, "First you interrupt my work. Then you come to me to bargain for my daughter as if _she_ were an _it _to be bargained with, like common merchandise. And now you insult me to my face?" He returned his dark gaze to the boy in front of him, "Your prospects are not looking good. Not good at all."

"Uh—but…" Goten returned to his previous hesitation. Fear stretched across Goten's features, and Vegeta wagged his head slowly as if the boy had failed some test.

"I don't think that about her!" Goten vindicated himself, waving his hands timidly, "I'm not bargaining for her! I asked her first, and she told me to ask you."

Vegeta continued to wag his head tiredly, but his smirk brightened with pride when he heard this.

"Did she now?" he chuckled delightedly. He wanted more than ever to place his hands on his hips and pronounce in a loud voice that he, his mate, and his offspring were superior to all beings in the universe and that all others should therefore immediately bow down and tremble before him. Alas, those days were over. He restrained himself and simply smirked more widely.

"And what did she say exactly?" Vegeta asked. Goten crossed his arms nervously. When he saw that that was what Vegeta was doing, he nearly shrieked and put his hands in his pockets instead. After he settled down a little, he replied in a murmur, "She said yes if you say yes."

"I do not say yes."

"Why?" Goten swallowed hard, surprised at himself for asking. Vegeta blew out a breath, let his eyes wander around the room for a moment, and then coldly glared at the boy.

"Because you are unworthy," he hissed, "Third-class. Low-class. Half-bred. Low-bred. Simp. Coward. And the son of a coward."

Goten's familiar fury burst into a rolling boil.

"You leave my father out of this!" he roared, bringing up a fist.

"So, then," Vegeta, unaffected by the threat, began counting with his fingers, "what is it now? One: you interrupt me. Two: you insult my daughter's worth. Three: you insult _my _worth. And now, four: you command and therefore dishonor your elder." He wagged his head again and looked pityingly at Goten, "Not good at all, boy. Not good at all."

The fury escalated.

"Will you cut that out?!" Goten shouted, lifting both fists this time, "You're skewing everything I'm doing and saying and trying to get me angry on purpose!"

"Ah!" Vegeta raised his forefinger, "At last a point in your favor: you've finally noticed. But! A point in your disfavor: you took rather slowly to notice. Therefore your realization has been canceled out by your dim-wittedness."

"I am not dim-witted!" A claret rage crept across Goten's face, making him look like a tomato.

"Two more points in your disfavor," Vegeta sighed, "One: again, disrespect. Two: self-denial. A total then of…" He calculated with his fingers, "negative six."

"Stop that!" Goten nearly screeched. Vegeta smirked again and returned his hands to their usual crossed position. Lifting his chin, he dared, "Why don't you make me, boy? Or did that cowardly clown of yours raise yet another cowardly clown?"

"You leave Dad out of this!" Goten bellowed as he charged toward Vegeta. The boy threw an elbow forward. The Prince stepped aside at the last moment, and as Goten flew passed him, he gently kicked the boy in the rear. Goten's body flung into a wall, but he quickly pushed himself back toward the Prince.

Goten tore forward a volley of punches and jabs, missing every time. Vegeta clutched one of the boy's fists and threw Goten to the floor. Then, twirling in a back flip, Vegeta pressed down the red button on the control pad, and a screen suddenly read "750."

An immense force sank onto Goten without warning, and he struggled to pull himself off the floor. He uttered a curse. He should never have allowed himself to get so rusty.

Vegeta marched around the boy, surveying the scene with a blank expression. He stopped at the boy's side and placed a foot on Goten's back.

"So that's what you think of my daughter, hmm?" Vegeta spat with a nasty growl, grinding Goten downward, "Just some common loot you can take from me by force? And when things get hard you crash, like a weakling, to the _floor_! I ought to break your neck, boy."

Goten groaned beneath the Prince's hard foot. He tried to push himself up with his hands. "That's not…" he tried to speak, only to feel the Prince's foot grind more forcefully into his back.

"Hmm, boy?" Vegeta mocked, "Did you say something?"

It seemed that Goten's sudden fury had forsaken him, yet he felt something latent within his heart. He had a strange feeling of pique, like a knight or samurai would have felt when his honor was insulted. Goten was a born warrior after all. Still, he had grown so accustomed to earthly life that this swirling sensation of dishonor pierced him like a knife.

The fury returned.

"I…" he started, his voice shaking with wrath, "do…not…" The anger mounted, and his body suddenly exploded into a golden light, "think of her that way!"

Now in his Super Saiyajin form, Goten bound off the floor, nearly tripping Vegeta.

"I do not!" Goten screamed, hurtling one fist forward while Vegeta was still trying to regain his footing.

Vegeta's head shot back from the force of the punch. He brought his hand to his nose and wiped away a thin string of blood. Seeing red on his fingers, he shot his eyes up at Goten. The boy gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. _Woops_.

"There goes my date," he thought.

Vegeta glared for a long time, saying and doing nothing. Finally, he rubbed his fingers together until the blood wiped off. He wagged his head reluctantly, closing his eyes. Turning his back to Goten, he approached the control pad of the gravity room. He pressed the red button, and the gravity returned to normal.

As quickly as the snap of a finger, Goten transformed out of Super Saiyajin form. He inched forward curiously to see what Vegeta had to say.

"Very well, boy," the Prince sighed, "You've earned it—for a night. I will not suffer anything further. Only one night. In a public place. Back before nine. If you touch her, if you offend her, you will die. One night only."

Goten widened his eyes in shock. What in the hell just happened? He shook himself back into reality and jumped at the offer.

"One night!" he crowed, scratching the back of his head with a smile—the very image of his father, "Thanks…sir." He bowed slightly, awkwardly.

"Leave now."

Goten nodded and immediately ran out to tell Bra the news.

Once the boy was gone, Vegeta heaved a sigh and floated his hand over the red button, ready to return to work. He was not sure why his daughter made the boy do such a thing, but he was glad she did. Vegeta would have erupted into a fit had she done such a thing without some sort of approval first.

He shook his head at his thoughts. Who was he kidding? She had him wrapped around her pinkie.

"Just like that mother of hers," Vegeta growled petulantly.

Vegeta secretly knew in his heart of hearts that if that wicked, immaculate girl slithered over to his side with those detestably gorgeous eyes—her mother's eyes—and mewled at him in that discordant honeyed voice of hers, the damned blessed girl could get anything she wanted from him. This was an obvious weakness that had to be concealed at all costs.

"Ha!" he grumbled in his thoughts, "There is no concealing it. Blasted girl."

"One night," he sighed to himself, pressing the red button.

He had done his duty as a father. He had put the boy to the test. He had prodded all the right buttons and lured out into the open all the right reactions. Unfortunately for Vegeta, the boy had passed the test for now. The Prince lowered his chin pensively. He could hardly deny it now. His princess, his daughter had grown into a young woman.

"One night," he uttered, dismissing all his absurd thoughts at once. With his characteristic frown, he leaped off the floor and returned to work.

"One night."

AUTHOR'S RANT: _I've never actually liked this pairing, but I thought the idea might be interesting. And what think ye: is Vegeta in character—considering that this is the matured Vegeta seen in GT? Please review ;)_


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